


(And you will always be someone who was beautiful, once.)

by softly (alexenglish)



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexenglish/pseuds/softly
Summary: I will always love you, or anyway I will always have loved you now.





	(And you will always be someone who was beautiful, once.)

**Author's Note:**

> [a softer world project](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/asofterworld)

 

Niall doesn’t really know why he follows Zayn out. He watches Zayn’s broad back as he leaves to go out onto the empty balcony and decides to follow him, doesn’t even bother grabbing another beer.

It’s probably a bit stupid, all things considered. It’s been so long since they’ve been face-to-face, much less been alone together. There isn’t much to talk about except business since Niall doesn’t know what Zayn’s been up to these days.

He heard something about a farm somewhere, horses and whatnot, but Niall didn’t really believe it then. It feels a silly to bring it up, so Niall won’t, but maybe he’ll look into it later. He can’t really imagine Zayn on a farm, but Zayn’s done a lot of shite Niall never imagined for him, so what does Niall know?

It’s chilly out, breeze nipping at Niall under his long sleeve thermal. Zayn looks comfy in his big canvas jacket, Niall spares a moment to wonder if the drawings on it are Zayn’s doing or if he spend hundreds of dollars for them to come pre-printed. With Zayn, he reckons it could go either way.

He lingers a bit, pretending to check his phone whilst Zayn lights up and leans against the thick metal railing. It’s like something out of a movie, Zayn nearly in silhouette, lights of the valley behind him outlining his profile so delicately. It reminds Niall of starlight, thick and bright in some places with patches of blackness blurring into the background as he keeps his focus on Zayn.

He can’t stop looking at Zayn. The fullness of his face, the familiarity there but also the changes. The way he takes up space differently, the way his energy isn’t tightly wound around himself anymore, but loose and easy going like he used to get when they had breaks. All the new bits and pieces Niall wasn’t around for. Hair, and piercings, and tattoos, and happiness.

“You don’t have to do this,” Zayn says quietly, after a moment of silence has passed. Niall wipes his hands on his jeans, forgets about asking to bum a smoke.

“What d’ya mean?” Niall asks, coming up next to him, leaving some space between them as he mirrors Zayn; arms resting on the rail, ankles crossed.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” Zayn says, with a little smirk that somehow manages not to be condescending even though Niall is very confused. It must show on his face, Zayn shrugs. “No one here gives a shite if you talk to me. No one’s gunna report us to The Sun.” Zayn doesn’t look at him, but Niall can see his face is guarded, sad. “I know you’re not keen on talking t’ me. ‘M not like the other boys, you don’t have to be my friend where people can see.”

“Zayn, what?” Niall feels his chest ache, shards of heartbreak shaking themselves loose. He thought they were gone, healed maybe. With the way his breath is catching at the top of his lungs, he reckons he was wrong. “Seriously?”

“S’not for show, like,” Zayn says coolly, taking another drag, blowing the blue smoke out over LA. Niall watches it go, frowning. “‘M not for show.”

“You’re _not_ ,” Niall says, a bit helplessly. “None of you are.”

Zayn snorts, rolls his eyes. It’s not mean, but it’s not nice neither. Indifferent, really. “Louis barely even talks t’ Liam,” Zayn says, finally look at Niall, eyes sharp and knowing in the low light. “But everyone goes on like they text over brekkie. It looks good, right? That the four of you are talking, but I’m not part of that.”

“No, you’re not,” Niall agrees slowly, thinking about the sound bites that sunk their teeth into Niall’s disbelieving gut the year after Zayn left. No, not a part of it, but --

“I haven’t been like,” Zayn flicks his cigarette away, rubs his hands over his face whilst it soars out and down. Niall spares a moment to hope it doesn’t start a fire before looking at Zayn. The line of his shoulders is soft and slumped, and Niall thinks _defeated_. “Y’ chose to cut me out of your life for a year. Then you email me like nothin’. Then, I’m hearing my name from you, and Harry, and Liam like any of you have --”

Zayn makes a frustrated noise, eyes flickering to the patio door, the people milling about inside. There’s a girl that’s looking -- not someone either of them know, Niall doesn’t think. She looks away once she notices Zayn is staring back.

“She might talk to The Sun,” Niall says drily.

Zayn laughs, a short chuckle that genuinely surprises Niall. “Yeah, well, cheers. Maybe she’ll make good money.”

It’s silent for another moment, but Zayn doesn’t look like he’s about to flee, so Niall lets it linger.

“I’m not doing this to look good,” Niall says finally. “‘M not doing this for anyone ‘cept you and me.”

“Okay,” Zayn says. It doesn’t sound like he believes Niall. It burns up in Niall’s chest. It makes him unbearably sad.

“Will you stop?” Niall asks, as gently as he can. He doesn’t want to have a row out here on someone’s balcony with a whole mess of people inside, but he’s so frustrated he could scream. Zayn looks at him impassively. “Stop that.”

“What?” Zayn asks, arching his eyebrows. “Treating you like a stranger? Like someone you barely know ‘cept in passing, like. Someone who gets an offhanded comment for an article and nothin’ more.”

Niall blinks at him.

“Over a year and none of you gave a shit, y’ didn’t try at all,” Zayn goes on, apparently picking up steam. “Now everyone wants to know, and now I get to hear my name dropped all over --”

“I’ve never name dropped you,” Niall interrupts, blinking. “We grew up together. Of course, people are going to ask.”

Zayn makes another frustrated noise and tugs out his pack of smokes. Niall looks inside again, more people are starting to stare. Maybe they can tell how much tension there is. How terrible the conversation is going.

“‘M just saying,” Zayn says, taking a long drag. His cheeks hollow out. Niall watches the shadows cut across his face, the deep blue of them; sharp under Zayn’s jaw, pooling in the dip of his collar. He’s staring, he knows, but he can’t stop looking at Zayn.

“I don’t really know what you’re saying,” Niall admits. It’s a mess. His head’s a mess. “I’ve had, like, shots. And you’re not makin’ sense.”

“Christ, Niall,” Zayn laughs. He looks at Niall, dark of his eyes intense as they meet Niall’s. Intense enough to make Niall’s face heat, make him want to squirm. “I’d never have to explain, before.”

A cold shiver of truth works it’s way down Niall’s spine. He swallows around the sudden, inexplicable knot in his throat. Okay, then.

“Guess I’m not so fluent in Malik anymore,” Niall says, acutely aware of how uncomfortable he is. Now it feels like he’s standing too close to Zayn, leaning in too far. More than he’d do with a stranger, right? That’s what Zayn’s saying, they might as well be strangers.

Zayn’s silent for another moment before he takes a drag and holds it out for Niall. Niall takes it, spine loosening a bit as he sets his lips to the filter. It tastes ashier than he remembers, hurts his lungs more, but it’s a nice distraction.

“I’m a commodity for you, babes,” Zayn says quietly. There’s a twist to his mouth, not quite a smile. “Being seen with you. Promo, headlines, s’all it is anymore.”

“Zayn --”

“S’alright,” Zayn says, taking back the cigarette when Niall passes it over, too dumbfounded to do anything else but wait for Zayn to keep going. “Didn’t bother giving you my new number, did I?”

“No,” Niall agrees.

But it doesn’t matter. They weren’t talking before that. They weren’t close. He’d heard from Zayn about This Town, and then silence. Wished each other Happy Christmas, and then silence. Long stretches of time without bothering to touch base.

That was Niall’s fault. Spent too much time ignoring Zayn’s call when they came, then regretted it when they stopped coming altogether.

“I guess I had to get over it,” Niall begins.

Zayn shakes his head, watching Niall under hooded eyes. “Don’t really want to talk about it anymore,” Zayn says, laughing. “Stopped needing that like, a long time ago.”

Niall stares at him.

It’s been years, but it feels like something he should explain anyway. Something he should apologize for, maybe. He’s thought about it a bit writing the album. Wrote songs about Zayn that weren’t quite about Zayn, that somehow ended up about Zayn anyway.

There’s always been a complicated ache in his chest over Zayn. One he couldn’t quite explain away, so he never tried. It surges to the surface easily with Zayn watching him so closely, with all his attention on Niall for the first time in years.

A tangible desire that Niall didn’t quite realize the extent of until now.

“I’m sorry,” Niall says quietly, hoping Zayn knows what it means.

Zayn laughs and takes another drag before quietly saying, “Thanks.”

The way he looks at Niall makes Niall’s heart jump, serious and steady. Niall doesn’t think he’s ever been on the receiving end of that look before.

Niall’s the one who speaks, needing to keep the dead air moving. This feels like a profound moment Niall is too buzzed for.

“D’y’ever wanna just like, start over?” Niall asks, waving his hand around to indicated everything. He know he doesn’t mean _everything_. He’s happy with his career, his relationship with the other boys is fine enough -- works for them, he’s met great people, done so much since the band split, but.

Maybe he just means Zayn, then.

“Us, maybe, like...” Niall shrugs, feeling silly for it. It’s not that he doesn’t want to say what he means, but he doesn’t know how to say it properly.

It’s like Zayn’s an entirely new person, but still someone Niall might know well, if he was given a chance to get to know Zayn again. Niall reckons there’s all these bits of Zayn from before that lingered, made new again with change; or not, kept their nostalgia whilst the rest of the world shifted and accommodated. Doesn’t make sense. Wouldn’t make sense to try and tell Zayn all that, so Niall doesn’t.

Zayn smiles, soft and thoughtful, before sticking the cigarette in his mouth and holding out his hand. Niall stares at it, looks up at Zayn. Zayn’s eyebrows twitch, filter stuck between his lips. It’s distracting, the way his skin clings to the filter. Niall thinks, _plush_.

He shakes Zayn’s hand.

“‘Sup,” Zayn says, talking around the smoke.

“Hi.”

They’re still shaking hands.

Zayn lets go to take a proper drag and fling the whole thing off the balcony. He’s really got to stop doing that, Niall thinks.

“I’m Zayn Malik,” Zayn says, with a cheeky smile.

“I’m, uh, Niall Horan,” Niall replies, with a giggle. He’s trying not to laugh outright, he doesn’t know if it will last.

“Fancy meeting y’ here, Niall Horan,” Zayn says.

“Don’t say ‘come here often,’” Niall warns, letting their hands drop. Zayn grins and shoves his hands the pockets of his jacket, leaning against the railing so he’s facing Niall.

“Wasn’t going to,” Zayn says slowly, eyes bright like they get when he’s amused. “So, like, I saw you around. Don’t know many people here, y’know, wonderin’ if you’d like to get to know each other.”

Heat rises in Niall’s cheeks again. “Sounds like a chat up line,” Niall mutters, and regrets it immediately.

Zayn laughs out loud, but doesn’t bother saying anything about that. “Y’want a drink?” he asks, jerking his head towards the door. This time when Niall looks, there isn’t anyone staring.

“Thought we weren’t doin’ the whole performative friendship bit,” Niall says, but he knows he’s going to say yes. It’s just a matter of being sure.

“Nice word,” Zayn says. Niall feels the affirmation flutter in his chest, the ghost of an old response to an even older habit. “It’s like you said, innit? S’not doing this for anyone ‘cept you and me.”

“Okay,” Niall say, as Zayn smiles. “Yeah, okay.”

They go inside together, move about the party ignoring the stares and raised eyebrows. There’s definitely an interest, more people Niall doesn’t know drifting over to talk to them both, but Zayn is Zayn and doesn’t bother humoring them for long.

Once they’ve gotten their drinks, Zayn takes them to a quieter part of the house. Still loud, but not as. More people lounging about on couches than attempting to dance. The way Zayn says hello and knocks knuckles with nearly everyone they pass, it’s obvious that he wasn’t serious when he said he didn’t know anyone.

Niall’s heart gives a complicated twist in his chest. All that outside means something much different if Zayn has this many other people he could be talking to. Zayn doesn’t stop for any of them, though. They keep moving until they find a place to sit. A small couch that doesn’t leave much space between them.

Being around Zayn again ends up being fun. Niall missed his dry humor and uncomplicated conversation. It’s easier than Niall though it might be to find things to talk about that have nothing to do with the past.

Zayn keeps slipping into the strangers role, commits himself to it. Asks about where Niall’s from, what he does for a living -- silly grin tugging at his lips when Niall says he’s just got done touring for a bit. Zayn asks about that, earnest enough that Niall believes him. So Niall tells him about the shows, doesn’t look at Zayn when he talks about his new band.

Niall talks circles about himself and what he’s been doing. Zayn doesn’t offer much about himself. Still working on the album. Yeah, there’s a farm -- yeah, with horses. Doesn’t keep up with anyone much. In his own head a lot. Shite Niall expected.

Niall wants more, but he doesn’t push it, lets Zayn steer.

It isn’t until Zayn gets Niall another drink that he realizes… _Notices_ , really. Zayn comes back with a drink and sits closer to Niall than before, presses their thighs together as he props his arm up on the back of the couch, boxing Niall in but in the fun way. The way that usually means Niall’s going to get asked home at the end of the night.

Niall notices Zayn’s eyes never leave him, and sometimes he looks at Niall’s mouth. He notices the way Zayn leans in, talks with his whole body, invites Niall to share space. He notices the fleeting touches, Zayn’s knuckles bumping his shoulder and Zayn’s hand on his thigh for the briefest of moments.

Niall notices so much, he nearly forgets to keep talking to Zayn, spine tightly wound with anticipation, mind working to figure out what this is. What it means.

Evidently, it means that once Niall’s drink is gone and there’s a silent moment, Zayn taps Niall’s knee with quick fingers, and smiles up at him in a way that makes Niall’s breath catch, and says, “I have a car, if y’wanna get out of here.”

Niall can’t think of a reason to say no, so he says yes.

Following Zayn into the back of a black SUV isn’t new, but this feels so different from anything Niall’s ever even thought of doing that Niall has to take a moment to breathe outside the door.

Zayn’s watching him from inside. There’s no expectation, or impatience. He’s just Zayn, staring at Niall and waiting for Niall to make a decision. Niall’s mind is already made up, but he wants to be able to pretend he thought about it beforehand -- wants to be able to pretend it wasn’t an impulsive decision based entirely off the resulting buzz from a couple of drinks and the heady rush of how it feels to maybe, possibly be wanted by Zayn Malik.

Zayn doesn’t scoot back towards the other door. He stays in the middle as Niall gets comfortable, settles in facing Niall. Niall stares back, wonders what the hell Zayn’s thinking.

“That was fun,” Niall chirps, not knowing what else to say.

Zayn hasn’t told the driver where to go yet. The cab light turns off after a moment, leaving it mostly dark. There’s a soft glow from the street lights barely making it into the car. It feels safer suddenly, less real.

“Hey,” Zayn says softly. Niall wonders if he feels it, too. “Can I do something I wouldn’t have before?”

Niall’s heart surges up into his throat. “Before…?”

Zayn laughs, reaching out slowly. Niall stays very still as Zayn touches his cheek carefully, watching Niall all the while. The sound of Niall’s pulse is so loud in his ears, he nearly misses it when Zayn speaks again.

“Before like,” his tongue sweeps over his lips, his thumb sweeps over Niall’s cheek, “Before we were strangers again.”

The words sink in Niall’s gut even as his chest inflates. “Like what?” he asks. His voice is so quiet.

Zayn’s quiet for a moment. He touches Niall’s bottom lip lightly. “What if I kissed you?”

“Uhm,” Niall says, eloquently, as Zayn reaches up and pushes Niall’s bangs back. Everything is so impossibly tender. Whatever Niall was expecting, it wasn’t this. “I don’t -- Why?”

The driver hasn’t so much as twitched. The whole thing is very surreal.

“I’d like to,” Zayn says. “Then you can decide if you want me to drop you at yours, or if you want to come to mine.”

“Okay,” Niall says, not really thinking about it. If he thinks about it too much, he’ll dig himself into a whole of ‘what-ifs’ and all the reasons it’s a bad idea, but. He wants this. He wants this so badly, more than he thought he would. “Yeah.”

Zayn grins, sweet and pleased, and tucks his fingers under Niall’s chin, bringing him in for a kiss. It’s a light press of lips, then another -- firmly, and another -- deeper. Zayn’s tongue is soft and slick against Niall’s bottom lip, his beard is softer than Niall thought it would be. Niall’s stomach jolts and flutters, warmth spreading all throughout him until it settles heavily at the bottom of his spine -- Christ.

Zayn kisses are intense and deliberate, like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing than kissing Niall. Niall lets himself get swept up in it, chases Zayn’s lips when he pulls away. Zayn laughs at him, quiet and lovely, but Niall doesn’t care -- he wants to keep kissing --

“Hold on, babe,” Zayn says, hand gripping Niall’s hip and leans forward, tells the driver, “Home please.”

The car pulls away from the curb, and Zayn’s got both hands on Niall’s waist to pull him in, pull Niall nearly on top of him to kiss again. It makes Niall laugh against Zayn’s mouth, which makes Zayn bite at his bottom lip impatiently.

Niall grunts and presses their foreheads together, trying to keep his head from spinning so madly.

“Hey stranger,” Zayn says, when Niall pulls back to look at him. He’s so lovely. He’s always been so lovely.

“Hey stranger,” Niall echoes, and thinks _I’m ready to know you again._

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/post/167559105597/and-you-will-always-be-someone-who-was-beautiful)


End file.
